


Ten Days to Say the Word

by communikate



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 13:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12388686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/communikate/pseuds/communikate
Summary: The phone clattered from Keith’s hold onto the ground as he shut the laptop on his fingers. He yelped slightly, jumping up from his seat and squeezing the plastic cup until mocha squirted across the table. He picked up his phone, smiling widely, “You’re home early.” With the cuff of his sleeve, he wiped the splatters from the table and the lid of his computer.“Welcome home to you too,” Shiro chuckled, kicking his feet up on the coffee table with an exhausted sigh. “What were you working on?”“Nothing,” Keith stuttered, kicking the coffee table with a small hiss of pain, “Just some work stuff."ORWhere Shiro notices that Keith is acting strangely and can't seem to figure out why.





	Ten Days to Say the Word

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DianaSolaris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DianaSolaris/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Elliott!!!!! <3 <3 <3 I hope it's wonderful, and I hope that you like my first Sheith piece! ((I tried to make it pure fluff, buuuuuut this is what happened))

Keith had been unusually tense, pacing and jumpy this entire past week - walking around their shared apartment like they hadn’t been living in it for the past four years. He slammed cabinets too hard, cringed when the trains and cars roared by the open window, and constantly had a flush about his cheeks even when the thermostat was set low enough to drive their electricity bill through the roof.

The number of times that Shiro had asked him if he was alright were uncountable.

  


#### 10 days before:

Keith was sitting on the couch, phone pressed between his slender shoulder and ear. His laptop was open on the coffee table, screen casting an eerie blue light on Keith’s face in the dimming lights of the apartment. While one hand jerkily typed, the other brought the straw of his iced mocha to his lips.

Shiro slipped through the door to their apartment, kicking his shoes off after a long day at work and hanging up his coat. With a sigh, he dropped his bag onto the floor and flopped onto the couch.

The phone clattered from Keith’s hold onto the ground as he shut the laptop on his fingers. He yelped slightly, jumping up from his seat and squeezing the plastic cup until mocha squirted across the table. He picked up his phone, smiling widely, “You’re home early.” With the cuff of his sleeve, he wiped the splatters from the table and the lid of his computer.

“Welcome home to you too,” Shiro chuckled, kicking his feet up on the coffee table with an exhausted sigh. “What were you working on?”

“Nothing,” Keith stuttered, kicking the coffee table with a small hiss of pain, “Just some work stuff.”

Shiro raised a single eyebrow, looking at the wide smile Keith wore. It was too tight, too forced, and so unnatural. He parted his lips to say something, but suddenly Keith loomed over him, knees dug into the couch straddling his thighs. Keith’s palms were slightly sweaty as he placed them on Shiro’s shoulders, leaning down to kiss his parted lips.

As all kisses with Keith, it was passionate, drawing all thoughts and questions from Shiro’s mind as he wove a hand through Keith’s hair, drawing him in. Keith’s posture relaxed against Shiro’s chest, hands seeking and playful.

Keith pulled away, flushed and slightly breathless. “So what do you want for dinner?”

“Anything, as long as I don’t have to make it,” Shiro sighed, hands sliding down to settle on Keith’s hips.

“As if I’d let you in the kitchen,” Keith joked, pulling back and pacing towards their kitchen, “The oven still smells like charcoal from the time you tried to make frozen pizza.”

Shiro blushed and watched Keith open the fridge and pull out ingredients, completely forgetting about the questions on his mind or Keith’s strange behavior earlier.

  


#### 8 days before:

Keith was on the phone when Shiro stepped out of the shower. He was standing in front of the large window, gauzy drapes drawn back and sunlight accenting his muscles. Pajama pants hung low on his hips, arms crossed across his bare chest. “No, no. I already told you that this has to be perfect.” There was a pause and he threw his hands up in exasperation, not noticing Shiro, dripping on the floor in only a towel.

“Lance, did you not get the plan that I sent you?”

“Did Lance, Pidge, and Hunk finally draw you into their dungeons and dragons game?” Shiro laughed, using another towel to stop his bangs from dripping in his face.

Keith turned on the ball of his foot, shock widening his eyes and opening his mouth. And then he smiled again, wonky and all sorts of forced, “Yes. D&D.” He turned his attention back to the phone, “Yeah, Lance we can meet tomorrow for coffee to talk about our strategy for our next round - campaign, yes campaign. Terminology.” He blushed slightly and turned towards the window.

Shiro snorted a laugh before tracking wet footprints into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee Keith had made earlier.

  


#### 5 days before:

Keith had suggested that they go out to dinner, sending him a text during lunch. Shiro held his fork between his lips as he typed a response. Keith normally hated going out to dinner on Fridays, it was normally too busy and loud in all of their favorite restaurants. But Keith seemed extremely adamant about going out to dinner, and who was Shiro to say no?

Shiro went home only to see clothes laid out on the bed with a short note from Keith scrawled in messy handwriting: Wear this!

It was a black dress shirt and his dark wash jeans. Shiro picked up the shirt and smiled. It was cute that Keith had planned all this out for a simple date between the two of them.

He played with the hem of the sleeve as he thought of Keith’s actions these past few days. Something struck him as odd. Especially since Keith normally was spontaneous with all of their dates, dragging Shiro from the apartment with a half-formed plan.

He slipped on the clothes, put on cologne, and rearranged his hair in the mirror.

**Keith:**  
_Where are you?_  
_Stop fixing your hair and get here. I’m hungry, Shiro_

**Shiro:**  
_Just leaving now_  
_See you in a bit <3_

But Shiro couldn’t help the way his mind played with all of the information: the awkward phone calls, Keith’s forced smile, and his obvious distractions from certain topics. If Keith was planning something it had to be important.

Keith sat at a nice corner table, a small candle burning on the table. He dangled his napkin over it, fiddling the cloth between his fingers and dragging it dangerously close to the flame. Shiro pulled out the chair opposite him.

“Shiro!” Keith yelped, dropping the napkin on the flame in surprise.

Flames quickly claimed the white cloth, jumping up and sizzling, bright and commandeering and dangerous. Keith snatched it from the flames. Shiro grabbed his water glass, prepared to soak Keith in the name of putting out the fire. But Keith slapped it with his hands, dosing it at the sake of his skin. He cursed, ripping his hands back. Shiro’s water sloshed halfway across the table, only sending a couple droplets onto the char that coated the tablecloth. Fragments of ash were ground into the grain of the fabric from Keith’s hands.

“Fuck,” Keith cursed, tossing his head back and not even looking at his hands.

Shiro slammed the glass back to the table and lept to Keith’s side, carefully examining his hands. They were red, inflamed and very obviously burned. Thankfully, there weren’t any blisters on the tender skin of his palms, only his fingertips still bore the callouses from canceled martial arts classes.

“Keith,” He growled, irritated at the little care Keith showed for himself. “Did you just not think?”

“Because I really had time to, Shiro,” Keith snapped, anger bubbled in his tone and the clench of his jaw. But Shiro could tell that it wasn’t meant to be directed at him.

The fire hadn’t really attracted the attention of the other guests in the restaurant, but the smell of ashes had them glancing around and casting a suspicious eye on them. A waitress rushed over, face flushed and hands fluttering in front of her.

“Is everything alright?” Her hands fiddled with the pockets of her apron, as if looking for something productive to do. “Is there anything I can get you? We’ve got a first aid kit in the kitchen.”

Shiro nodded at the waitress, grabbing his napkin and dunking it into his half-empty water glass. Carefully, he pressed the cool cloth to Keith’s palms with a small, exasperated sigh. Keith hissed, hand jerking away from the light touch of pain. “We should really go home and treat this.”

“No!” Keith cried out, grabbing Shiro’s arm as he stood. Shiro watched him wince at the contact to his burns.

“Keith, we should really go -”

“I just wanted to have a nice dinner,” Keith explained, looking up at Shiro with a pained expression, brows furrowed and eyes wide. Shiro bit his lip, drawing his attention anywhere but the sorrowful look painted on Keith’s face.

Shiro delicately removed Keith’s grip from his wrist, kneeling next to him again. “You can barely move your hands, Keith. I can’t sit across from you and watch you wince all throughout dinner.”

Keith nodded, defeat slipping into the slope of his shoulders and the bow of his neck. His bangs fell across his face as Shiro lightly pulled him from his seat, smiling to the waitress. “Sorry for the fuss.” He pressed a $20 into her hands before leaving, dragging Keith begrudgingly behind him.

  


#### 4 days before:

Shiro woke Saturday morning to a still and quiet bed. Normally Keith dug his knees or elbows into Shiro as he slept, radiating heat and stealing the majority of the blankets. In the beginning of their relationship, Shiro had complained, corralling Keith to spoon with him, but by the end of the night without fail, Shiro had a knee in his gut and an elbow in his throat. But there was something so endearing about waking up before Keith and seeing the way his hair fanned out on the pillow or the blankets, snuggled up to his chin, framed his face.

But the bed was still and Shiro was spread in the middle, face down in the pillows.

He sat up, squinting at the sunlight that poured through the open window. The sounds of cars on the road below were muffled as Shiro rubbed his eyes. Keith’s side of the bed was cold, glasses still left on the nightstand.

The shower was running, a soft sound accented by the occasional gurgle of the pipes. Shiro stretched, and rose from bed. He walked to the bathroom door, about to knock and ask Keith for access into their only bathroom, but the sound of Keith’s muffled voice stopped him.

“I ruined everything,” He sobbed, voice tight and half-choked. Shiro’s arm fell to his side before pressing into the door frame and leaning in closer. His heart ached, because Keith was upset. But he hadn’t come to Shiro for this, which made his fingers curl and jaw tense.

“I know, Pidge. I know. But I had just worked so hard and planned everything, and it was my dumb fuck up that ruined it all.” His voice was cut off by a loud clatter and the thud of Keith’s fist.

Shiro didn’t hesitate, opening the door. Keith stood in front of the mirror, eyes red and puffy. One hand gripped the porcelain lip of the sink with a white knuckled grip while the other held his phone to his ear. Toothpaste, hair brushes, and other bathroom accessories were scattered around his feet.

Shiro stepped forward, gently taking the phone from Keith’s weak and trembling grip. “Pidge, he’ll talk to you later.” Shiro stated, not waiting for a response to hang up the phone and set it down.

Keith’s chin trembled, taking a step back and shaking his head. Shiro swept him up in a hug, squeezing him tight against his chest. Keith’s fingers skittered along his pajama shirt, digging in and holding on as his shoulders trembled from suppressed sobs, pain of his treated burns forgotten.

“You didn’t ruin anything, Keith,” Shiro hushed. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of running water and the steadying rhythm of Keith’s breathing.

  


#### 3 days before:

It was Sunday and Keith was still up before Shiro. The smells of pancakes woke him, tantalizing on the edges of his dreams. He pushed from the bed, and groggily walked over to the kitchen to see Keith at the small pancake griddle Hunk had bought them last Christmas.

Keith mumbled as he held a small squeeze bottle, tongue stuck out between his lips as he concentrated.

“Morning,” Shiro grumbled, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Keith’s hands spasmed, emptying half the squeeze bottle over whatever pancake art design he had been trying to make. He groaned and tossed the plastic bottle into the sink.

“Want eggs for breakfast?” Keith asked, scraping the bubbling pancake batter into the sink and harshly ripping out the plug to the griddle.

Shiro raised an eyebrow, as he watched Keith run the garbage disposal and bits of pancake traveled down the drain to be devoured. He gave his boyfriend a gentle peck on the cheek before leaning against the counter, “I’ll eat anything you make, Chef Kogane.”

Keith nodded, grabbed a carton of eggs from the fridge and cracking them into a sizzling pan. Shiro could’ve sworn he heard Keith mutter, “Keep it simple, my ass. I’m never listening to Hunk’s dumb ideas again.”

  


#### 2 days before:

Shiro was sitting at his desk in the morning checking his email when Rolo ran into the office, face bright and smile wide. “She said yes!” He thrust his fist into the air to a small cheer from the office. Several people jumped up and gave him hugs, slapping his shoulders and congratulating him.

“Congratulations,” Shiro said, placing a gentle hand on Rolo’s shoulder. He was smiling so wide it looked like his blushed cheeks were in pain.

“Thanks,” He chuckled, scratching at the back of his neck, “It still feels like a dream.”

Matt stood next to Shiro, bumping him with his elbow. “So when are you and Keith getting married?” His smile was devious, too similar to Pidge when she got a horrible idea stuck in her head. Shiro stiffened looking down at his best friend, who only cocked an eyebrow at his confusion, “What? You’ve been dating for like six years.”

“I don’t know,” Shiro muttered, gaze bouncing to Rolo and the quality of brightness that had settled over his colleague, “I just never really thought of it.”

Matt slapped him on the shoulder with a wide smile, “Damn, I pity Keith.” He chuckled at Shiro’s insulted look and sauntered back to his cubicle.

Shiro settled back into his chair, flipping through email, but his mind was elsewhere. It was walking along the aisle with him, picking out suits and rings and a venue and flowers, assigning Lance to music and finding a DJ and Hunk to catering and the cake. It was asking Matt to be his best man and telling his parents and holding Keith under his arm and feeling the heat of his blush. It was asking Keith to marry him and watching the surprise on his face and hearing his response.

But what if that response was no?

Shiro bit at his nails and tried to focus on work.

Keith was sitting at their dinner table, bills spread out in front of him and glasses settled far down on his nose. His hair was pulled back into a small ponytail at the nape of his neck. His sleeves were bunched at his elbows and a cup of no longer steaming coffee sat to his right.

Shiro’s stomach dropped, thoughts from this morning flooding his mind as he looked Keith over.

Keith glanced up, eyes alight, “Welcome home.” His smile was weak as he let papers fall from his fingers to the table with a small groan.

“Everything okay?” Shiro asked, kicking off his shoes and padding into the room.

“Taxes,” Keith ground out.

Shiro picked up a paper, and the words just kind of spilled out of him like a joke, “If only we were married.” The thoughts were fleeting to the sheer anxiety that screamed through his veins. He didn’t meet Keith’s eyes, but he noticed the new stiffness to his shoulders, “Tax breaks would be great, right?”

He chuckled before placing the paper back down on the table. Keith didn’t meet his eyes, only nodding his head and chuckling lightly.

Shiro bit his lip, walking towards the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and looked at him in the mirror. What the fuck had he been thinking?

  


#### 1 day before:

Keith didn’t come home until late. Shiro sat up, waiting with a plate of half-eaten leftovers next to him at the table. Keith had texted him just before work ended saying that he would be home late. Shiro hadn’t questioned it, but his mind was still racing, trying to trace Keith’s strange behavior and their small conversation yesterday about marriage.

Shiro groaned and threaded his fingers through his hair.

When Keith stumbled through the door, Shiro was in pajamas, lounging on the couch with a small glass of wine and a book held open with one hand.

“You’re home late,” Shiro commented, attempting not to let any irritation show. Because he knew that Keith hadn’t come home late as a means to avoid him and their conversation yesterday.

“Yeah,” Keith sighed, flicking his shoes off and throwing his bag onto the couch. “Work was shit. I’m going to shower.” He stalked off to the bathroom without looking at Shiro.

He sighed and took another large gulp of wine.

  


#### The day:

Keith was still asleep when Shiro woke up, his boyfriend’s elbow dug deep into his sternum. He smiled, brushing the hair of Keith’s bangs behind his ear. His boyfriend buried his face into the pillow with a small groan. Chuckling, Shiro left bed and got ready for the day, pretending that the weight of the last two days didn’t sit heavy against the values of his heart.

Matt stopped at his desk, dropping a cookie onto his keyboard. Shiro looked up over a cup of steaming coffee.

“You look like shit,” Matt said, sitting on the edge of Shiro’s desk.

“Didn’t sleep well,” Shiro commented, picking up the cookie and shaking the crumbs out of his keyboard. “I may have rushed things with Keith.”

Matt only raised an eyebrow, mouth full of cookies.

Shiro sighed and wrung the back of his neck. “I brought up marriage as a joke two nights ago, and you should’ve seen his face, Matt. I just wanted to gauge his reaction, or I don’t know, but god, he couldn’t even look at me,” He whined and took a deep gulp of his coffee.

Matt opened his mouth to say something, but the screeching fire alarm cut him off. Lights flashed, illuminating hallways that were already bright with midday sun as his colleagues filed out of the building. Shiro sighed, hoping that it was just a drill and that one of the other office floors hadn’t actually set something on fire.

Leaving the emergency stairs, there was a crowd around the parking lot. Soft music played over the sound of the blaring alarm which died the second he broke through the crowd. He pushed through, instructing people to actually step away from the building in case it wasn’t just a drill.

But all of the words died in his mouth the second he saw them.

Lance stood to the side, strumming his guitar to a familiar tune. He wore the biggest smile, gazing to Allura who was singing softly, voice projecting over the sounds of the muttering crowd. She was holding a white poster with the word “Will” printed in sharp lettering.

Hunk stood next to her, bouncing on the balls of his feet with the largest smile on his face. He held a poster with both hands that said “You.”

Pidge was next to him, wearing some backpack contraption that sprayed flower petals into the air. They danced in the wind almost blocking the view of the poster she held, reading “Marry.”

Keith stood in front of them all, wearing a black suit. His hair was tamed - for once. His red dress shirt was buttoned up, accenting the frantic pulse in his neck. His eyes were glowing as he kneeled in the middle of the parking lot. His hands shook slightly as he held the final poster, with the word “Me?” printed in bright letters.

Shiro took a step forward, standing over Keith, fumbling for something to say.

“Shiro,” Keith began, placing the poster in Hunk’s waiting hand. Allura’s singing stopped, allowing Keith to speak only over the sound of the music. “We’ve been dating for six years, and it seems that every year - every day I love you more. You’re my best friend, and I want nothing more than to be with you.”

He reached down for his pocket, fumbling for it before holding out a small velvet box. His hands trembled as he opened the box, showing a shining ring in the folds of velvet. It was silver and black, threaded with black diamonds.

Shiro could only hear the rush of his heart beat in his ears. His hand trembled and pressed against his bitten lips, because he was fumbling for anything to say to Keith, tumbling around the flutters of his stomach and the blush that heated his cheeks. Keith looked at him with such an open earnest expression that Shiro fought the temptation to cry, chin trembling and breath catching in his constricting throat.

“So will you marry me, Shiro, and make me the happiest man alive?” Keith asked, presenting the box forward on shaking hands.

Shiro grabbed Keith’s hands, pulling him to his feet. “Yes, but only if you make me the happiest man alive.” He grabbed the back of Keith’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft and tentative, everything that Keith wasn’t. He was passion, bright and burning, surefireness, steady and headstrong. But in a second, he gripped Shiro’s dress shirt and dragged him even closer, so impossibly close.

The crowd of the people from his office cheered and clapped as they kissed, relishing in their celebration. Shiro’s hands trembled as they threaded through Keith’s hair. He pulled back for air, resting his forehead against Keith’s and enjoying the connection of their bodies.

With shaking hands, Keith took the ring from the box and pressed it onto Shiro’s trembling fingers, small hot hands grasping his as a means of stability. Shiro’s heart raced, cheeks heated, and he finally understood what Rolo meant, because this felt to amazing to be reality.

“Congrats!” Matt yelled, slapping Shiro on the back before he could say anything else to Keith. Keith pulled back, but only so far that Shiro still had his hand draped over his shoulders.

“I so glad that’s finally over,” Pidge whined, shutting off the backpack, the rose-petal-blower, with a switch. She huffed and sank to the curb. Keith kicked at her shin with a hiss. Shiro raised an eyebrow, and Pidge was more than happy to elaborate, “Keith loves to ruin all of our plans.”

Keith huffed, “It’s not my fault Shiro is so difficult.”

“I - what?” Shiro asked, arm dropping from Keith’s slim shoulders. The members of his office building were making their way back inside as Matt giggled next to him.

“Keith was supposed to ask you Friday at dinner,” Allura explained, playing with the poster in her hands.

Shiro rolled his eyes, looking back at Keith, “It’s not my fault that you tried to set the restaurant ablaze, Keith.” Keith blushed a deep scarlet, climbing all the way to the tips of his ears.

“And then I suggested pancake art,” Hunk piped in, smile wide. “Because writing ‘Will you marry me’ in pancakes is extremely romantic.”

“Only for a foodie like you,” Lance joked, elbowing his best friend in the side.

Keith sighed, “I already told you that I’m not good at art.” Shiro wrapped a steady arm around Keith’s waist and squeezing him tightly. Keith looked up at him with wide eyes, “I had been up since six trying to write in damn pancake mix. So when you walked in at ten, I finally scrapped the idea.”

Shiro didn’t mean the laugh, didn’t want to not, not when his fiancé was pouting, but he couldn’t stop the snort. Allura bit her lip, and Pidge and Matt made no move to stop the laughter.

Keith crossed his arms with a huff. “And Lance kept giving me the worst ideas.”

“Hey!” Lance jumped in, placing his hands on his hips clearly offended, “I stand by the Sonic idea.”

“Sonic?” Shiro raised a single eyebrow.

Lance smiled and Keith groaned, rubbing a hand down his face, “Yeah, Keith dresses as Sonic the hedgehog and bumps into you. He falls to his knees and holds up the ring saying, ‘I lost my ring, but it seems like it found a good owner.’”

Shiro chuckled and Keith rolled his eyes before drawing Shiro down into a kiss, a light peck on his still blushing cheeks.

“This was amazing,” Shiro whispered in Keith’s ear, leaning down and relishing in the heated blush he felt radiating from Keith’s skin. “Thank you.”

Keith leaned into his touch and smiles, “Anything for you.”

“But we seriously should go,” Pidge commented, pulling up her computer from the folds of the rose-petal-blowing bookbag. “Even though I set the fire alarm not to alert the fire department, the building manager seems to have caught onto my trace.” She frantically typed a couple things, before shoving her computer in her back and sprinting across the parking lot to Allura’s black convertible.

“See you at home,” Keith whispered, kissing Shiro on the cheek before sprinting after the group who was laughing and slapping Keith on the back enthusiastically.

Shiro smiled, watching them go and playing with the new ring on his finger. He walked back inside, mind distracted by counting down the hours until the end of the day when he could see Keith.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Comments and kudos mean the world to me!
> 
> Come scream at me on my [tumblr](https://voltronhastakenovermylife.tumblr.com)!! :)
> 
> Also huuuuuge shout out to [Malevelyance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malevelynce/pseuds/Malevelynce) for beta-ing for me!! Please go check out her adorable [Heith fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088584/chapters/27399483)!!! <3


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